Okay, here's the deal. When did people become "that" instead of "who?" I hear this on the radio on the TV ( and shouldn't news reporters know better )? and unless my memory is wrong, have even read it in places. Why? How hard is it to remember that people require a "who"? And here's another--myself instead of me. My boss did this all this time and it drove me crazy. Are we so afraid to be in the spotlight that we have to say, "So-and-so and myself did such-and-so?"
Do you remember when I featured this book on my blog as a Waiting on Wednesday pick???
Well it's coming out July 1st from Sourcebooks!! And I have one of the authors here today with a wonderful blog post about dreams and music and their writing process. I think everyone will enjoy it! And of course there is a giveaway that absolutely EVERYONE will enjoy, I am sure!!! First, a little about DREAM BOY!!
Annabelle Manning feels like she’s doing time at her high school in Chilton, Virginia. She has her friends at her lunchtime table of nobodies. What she doesn’t have are possibilities. Or a date for Homecoming. Things get more interesting at night, when she spends time with the boy of her dreams. But the blue-eyed boy with the fairytale smile is just that—a dream. Until the Friday afternoon he walks into her chemistry class.
One of friends suspects he’s an alien. Another is pretty sure it’s all one big case of deja vu. While Annabelle doesn’t know what to think, she’s willing to believe that the charming Martin Zirkle may just be her dream come true. But as Annabelle discovers the truth behind dreams—where they come from and what they mean—she is forced to face a dark reality she had not expected. More than just Martin has arrived in Chilton. As Annabelle learns, if dreams can come true, so can nightmares.
One of friends suspects he’s an alien. Another is pretty sure it’s all one big case of deja vu. While Annabelle doesn’t know what to think, she’s willing to believe that the charming Martin Zirkle may just be her dream come true. But as Annabelle discovers the truth behind dreams—where they come from and what they mean—she is forced to face a dark reality she had not expected. More than just Martin has arrived in Chilton. As Annabelle learns, if dreams can come true, so can nightmares.
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GUEST POST
You Can Be Anything You Want to Be Except...
When I was a kid, my mother told me I could be anything I wanted to be. Then one afternoon she heard me singing and she amended her statement.
“You can be anything you want to be,” she said, “except maybe a singer.”
I hadn’t really wanted to be a singer until that moment. But as soon as she said it, I envisioned myself with a microphone. When I hit high school, I wondered if I might be the sort of person who could pull off leather pants. Never mind that I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket or that standing in front of a bunch of people made my lungs feel like they were wrapped in cobwebs. I was ready to rock! The shower was my Madison Square Garden. With the exception of my bat mitzvah, the shower remains the largest venue I’ve ever played. Because I never became a singer; I became a writer instead.
I started off as a journalist, covering everything from cops to higher education. And then I got the beat of my dreams: I became a music writer. For years, I covered all of the bands that came through our pocket of Southwest Virginia. In the rock world, we never got the people at the top of the charts; we got the bands on their way up or down (I saw Def Leppard in 1999 instead of the 1980s, for instance).
In the country world, though, we got the bands at the tippy top. I saw old-school artists like Merle Haggard and George Jones and Willie Nelson. I saw new country artists like Faith Hill and Martina McBride. Which got me thinking that maybe I wanted to be a country singer instead of a rock star. (I still think a song I wrote called Fishing for Love could be a hit for Alan Jackson. Just saying.)
When I moved from journalism to fiction writing, my songs came with me. And that’s when I got my big break. Because in fiction, you’re creating a world. And a world isn’t complete without music.
For Canary in the Coal Mine, my middle grade novel that came out last year, I tried an old-time song that featured lots of A minor. In real life, nobody heard that song but me. But in the book? Everyone knew it, and they sang it during a key scene.
When Mary Crockett and I were working on Dream Boy together, we named the town after Alex Chilton, one of my favorite musicians of all time. And then we went about writing songs to help build our world.
Annabelle’s dreams are interrupted by her alarm clock. The alarm clock meant music. I’d tried rock and country, so here we tried rap. (Love is patient, so they say in Corinthians…) By writing our own songs, Mary and I didn’t have to get the rights for somebody else’s. We also wrote Evasive Maneuver, a grinding heavy metal piece that I not-so-secretly hope Metallica will want to cover. We wrote Manic Panic, which ended up on the cutting room floor. We named the bands on Will’s iPod and we named the bands that Annabelle and her friends saw at their favorite club. (The Pacers were named after the car, which I always wanted to own despite their reputation for blowing up; their song, Kerosene, was actually a song my husband’s band played back in the day.) We also wrote the love song Will and Annabelle danced to during homecoming.
So in real life, my mother was right: I never became a singer. But my songs are playing on a radio in Chilton, Va. They’re on somebody’s iPod. And at the homecoming dance, a kid just asked the DJ if he could play a tune by Rosenberg and Crockett. We’re not scheduled to appear at Madison Square Garden yet, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. In the fictional world, anything can happen.
Madelyn Rosenberg
That means I can be twenty five again and tall and smart! And I can do college all over again and.... oh the possibilities :) My mom said I'd never be an artist Madelyn. It's okay, I'm a lot of other things!!!
And so for the giveaway!!
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